


Liberation

by Iunara



Series: Darth Marr the Outlander [1]
Category: Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Canon Typical Racism, Gen, Liberation, Lots of OCs - Freeform, Non-Sexual Slavery, TW: slavery, Visions, background relationship (squint really) - Malgus/Eleena, from slavery, liberal approach to the Force, timelines are subjective and I am going to fudge them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-15 03:20:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16925535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iunara/pseuds/Iunara
Summary: Before Edenye Scyne became a Sith Lord or met Darth Marr, she was once a slave. One who was kept hidden away from the Imperial registers out of pure greed on part of her Master. Until Darth Malgus found her.Discovery - fic





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> How Edenye was discovered. First part of a series that will end up as Darth Marr!Outlander AU (Which might take a while to get to, but hey, gotta start somewhere)

Silence hung over the large entry hall to the private quarters of Master Relion’s estate. Edenye crawled over the floor dunking the dirty rag into a bucket at her side. Wringing it out, she sat it down again to scrub the floor. A punishment. To do the work that droids had been made for. She had to wince. Sharp pinches twisted on her back with the newly forming scars. Another punishment, on top of the one she was doing. Scars from whiplashes already littered her back.

Twenty of them. Why she had not been told. Only been pulled from her bed in the deep of the night to be brought to the overseer.

Biting her lip, she pushed the rag across the floor. Who had dirtied this floor in the span of two hours? Obvious who it was. Why was she even asking that herself? Relion was doing this on purpose. Why was he so angry with her? She had done all what he had asked of her! A sudden burn on he left shoulder blade made her stop. Her left hand slackened, fingers losing strength and she sacked in her posture breathing hard.

She bit her lip harshly to prevent a groan in pain. Please please, not another scar opening up again! They would make her wash the bloodied tunics again. Without giving her any bacta while she bled onto the new one. Mercy…, stars, all she asked for was mercy.

Slaves deserved no mercy. What Master Relion had always said. Why was she thinking this? Useless. She was just useless. Only… she was good for _one_ thing. One thing only. A rough cough to her back made her flinch. Frantically, she scrubbed harder on the same spot. If the guards watching her suspected her slacking, they had permission to punish her.

“Get on with it,” the male snapped as the female giggled behind him.

“Just shock her,” she suggested smugly.

Please no. Tears burned at the corners of her eyes as Edenye slid across the smooth stone floor to another patch that needed cleaning. She was doing her work… Just… let her heal. By the stars, she was just a slave. Why did she need two guards watching her? There was nothing she could do except lift a bucket! What danger was she to them? Even if she managed to flee, she would not get far. Not with her injured back and lack of food and money.

“Not necessary,” the man huffed amused, “look at her scrambling.”

The female groaned, but remained quiet. Thank the stars. No minutes of boiling flames running through her veins. Her shock collar weighed heavily on her neck, the two contact points alongside her shoulders digging uncomfortably into her skin and bone. One that fit ill and they had not bothered to give her a fitting one yet.

Why was this spot hard to clean? Solid, dried dirt. She had cleaned it this morning! What had they done in the hours in between? Surely Master Relion would not go through all this trouble to punish her like this?

He had though. What had happened?

Filed down nails scratching at the surface as she scrubbed furiously at it. Biting back the pain flaring up in her left shoulder. Already she could feel something running down her back. Must be blood. No, do not care about it! If she didn’t get this cleaned, then…. her throat closed up. Do not think about it. Nothing good came of any thought of it. It would only show her more red sand. Something she could no longer stomach to see.

She could practically hear the cracking of the whip again tearing up her still healing skin. Though, this time… the familiar crack did not resonate in her skull. Like all the times before, when she heard it and seconds later a mistake happened.

_Strange_. She straightened her still burning shoulder blade, letting that side’s hand merely rest on the rag as she pushed with the other.

No punishment tonight? Would she finally be able to heal?

She let up with the furious scrubbing, hope digging into her skin refusing to scamper off. Just breathe. Hoping would not help her. Never had, only brought her beatings and bruises. The stone under her knees glittered in the setting sun that shone through the large windows that spanned the small stair case hall of Relion’s estate.

Pretty… almost like a night sky littered with stars.

“Alien scum,” the female hissed suddenly, “Work!”

The electrical charging of her hair underneath the collar was her only warning. She squeezed her eyes shut in already knowing what was to come. There was not enough time to scream. It was as if someone had inserted daggers into her skin and stabbed into her organs. Boiling her blood, making her writhe on the floor. When had she fallen onto her side? Her hands had cramped over the collar, trying to tear it off. Even if it was feeble.

Then it stopped.

Nose burning from the bile that had worked itself into the back of her throat, she tried to breathe. Cool relief seeped into the skin of her cheek that was pressed against the floor, clearing the heat that now collected in her forehead. Groaning, she pressed a hand in front of her mouth. No vomiting. She would have to clean it up. Again. Like all the days beforehand. Ever since that man had come to visit and she had been made to face him.

To see only death staring back and red sand pouring out of the nose. Shaking, she pushed herself to her elbows.

Continue scrubbing. No whip and no more shocking. Her entire body felt numb, nerves dead as her hands clutched at the rag that had slipped from her fingers.

“Get to work,” the man boomed laughing along with the cackling of the female beside him.

She winced. Why did they have to be so loud? Ears rang out from the scratching laughter the two gave out. Of course she had to work! That was her whole life. From birth to death. Unless her Master decided she was fit enough to have children. Or useful enough. Still shaking, she dragged herself to the spot she had to stop scrubbing. Over half way done.

This had to be done. She had to. Could do it. Anything else meant… no don’t think about it.

As long as they no longer shocked her. The pressure behind her nose lessened just as the burning of the acid retreated down to her stomach. At least she recovered fast from these things. Not like some of the others. Old Uom could not move from their bed roll after they had been shocked. How they had lived in the end was beyond her to this day.

Knees ached as the caps dug into the stone again, when she came to a stop. Do not look at the guards. Do not speak up against them. Do not risk more scars. No more pain. The mantra they all had been beaten into for as long as she could remember. Even her mother. Wherever she was now. If she was alive that was. Her memory had been fuzzy of the time she got grabbed and never came back. The skin on her cheeks felt stiff. Tears? Her tongue flicked out to the corners of her mouth. Salty. How had she not felt them spilling? Nevermind. She had to work.

The female guard started cackling, “We could keep shocking her…”

“You know the orders,” the man huffed, “no excessive shocking. He still needs her… _dreams_.”

Hot embarrassment ran down her spine and she wanted to yell at them. Her dreams were no one’s business. Least of all the two of them, cackling Tukata… They were the reason why she was here right now, scrubbing and enduring their sadistic glee to see her nearly die.

“One more time,” the female suggested, “she doesn’t look cowed enough.”

“Well,” she could practically feel the man’s shrug on her back, “with _that_ justification.”

Red sand floated past her nose… whatever the two behind her said suddenly drowned up in a sudden rush of wind in her ears. Like in so many dreams… the red sand. This time the name _Korriban_ did not resonate within her skull.

Not again.

She squeezed her eyes shut anticipating the familiar crackle of electrical charge built up. Only it never came.

 A loud boom shook the ground underneath her. Grip on the rag giving away as her upper body impacted hard on the floor. Sharp pain shot up from elbows up making her teeth rattle. Air rushed out from her lungs. Gasping for air, dust and small pebbles rained down from the ceiling. Slid down her tunic, itching and scratching against her skin. Stars… the agony.

What had just happened?

“What was that?” The female shrilled.

Two blasters clicked off their safety. Fear, ice cold sank into her fore head, numbing the pain in her back and chest down to her elbows.

“I don’t know,” the male replied, uncertainty weighing in his words.

Quickly she glanced back to see the two with their rifles drawn and stepping away from their former position. Carefully, she pushed herself up, back tensing at the exertion. Now on her knees, she looked around. A thin layer of dust coated the room now, while more dust floated in the air. Stupid dust. All that work for nothing now! She would have to start all over again! Tears pooled into her eyes, stinging at the dust that had collected near. Her shoulders were itching and grew painful.

Do not scratch. That would never help. Biting her lip, she rubbed at her eyes. Hopefully she could get the dust out and get back to her work. Metallic tasting scent filled her nostrils, nearly gagging her. Lurching her stomach, she caught herself just in time before dry heaving. Then it was gone. Only leaving a bile at the back of her throat.

Work! That had meant punishment. Could only ever mean that.

Snatching the rag up, she had to bite back a cry when her back stretched too much at the action. Stars, mercy….

Her limbs felt so heavy. Since when had they been shaking? She could not control it, as much as she tried to focus. The cloth nearly slipped from her fingers.

Calm down. Take a breath.

Suddenly the air sent up goosebumps up her arms. Whatever had just happened. Had not been planned. Not with the way her guards were still uncertainly keeping an eye on each door and their coms.

If she continued working, there’d be no reason to use the shock collar. Hopefully. Maybe even food?! When was the last time  she had gotten a ration bar? Dunking the rag into the water, she looked back to the patch she would have to start working on.

The ever present ache in her stomach closed up her throat. Too long ago. Taking the rag out, she tried to twist it. It was as if all strength had left her as the cloth fell off her grip and into the water, splashing her face and tunic.

Oh no… One more thing to clean.

_Run_.

That voice again. Who kept talking to her? Confused she looked to the guards who were still muttering between each other. Anxiety oscillating between them. No, not them. There never was someone talking. But who would or could?

Though… a void opened up near the two still conversing guards, shrouding them. An all consuming void. The one that had gotten her into this trouble to begin with. Death… it was coming. Those two will die. Should she tell them? Cocking her head, she stared at them for a moment. Would they even believe her? No, they would not. More likely they would shock her for her insolence to speak at them when not asked.

Shivering, she turned back to what she should be doing. Whatever had happened in the lower levels was most likely the kitchen appliances finally giving out. Hopefully that would get fixed now.

_Run_!

Again! She winced. That had been louder and was resonating painfully around her skull.  That voice, how could no one ever hear it? Rubbing her aching temple, she looked back to the guards. So oblivious… But they had not noticed her not really working either. She might be able to slowly crawl towards the door closest to her…. Risk it? A slight thumping at the back of her skull started. _Yes_ , she needed to risk it.

Slowly she inched over the floor. No noise. Dragging the rag with her in case the guards turned around. All the while the thumping increased. _Faster_.

Time slowed down as cold hands gripped her spine. Her eyes were drawn to the window pane.

A small black dot flew towards the glass.

Oh no.

Her legs kicked out and she felt herself flying up away, as glass shattered and…

A loud explosion threw her further, her knees and hands tearing along the floor. Pain exploded all over as heat rushed over her back, scars feeling as if they had burst into fire. Searing pain washed over, choking her pained cry from her throat. Knees and the skin on her hip tore more and more the further she slid. Until she came to a stop. Not a hand’s width away from the door.

The pounding was gone.

Blood filled her mouth, tongue pinching in sharp pain, the metallic taste sending the bile from her throat to back of her nose.

Two pangs of screams filled her ears, before being drowned out by a high-pitched ringing piercing her brain.

Agony… It hurts! Stars, make it stop! Stop!

Chest tight, she tried to draw in a breath. Too tight, no air! Gasping, she grabbed at her throat. Finally air. It was burning her lungs. Until… someone gripped her shoulders. Turning her around, on her back. Grey silhouettes floated into her field of view.

Until the focus shuttered back. Grey helmets, red stars on their shoulders.

Imperials?

What were they doing here? Soot particles floated through the air, flashes of red. Coldness seeped through her stomach, two pangs of ice tearing down her back. Death. It meant death. There was no need to turn around, the two guards were dead.

Numbness spread over her, her eyes flickering over the helmets now encapsulating her field of view. Were they going to kill her too? She was just a slave. What use…

Her neck was yanked backwards, the tendons pulling apart under the force of being heaved up. Armoured hands grabbed her under the arm pits, hauling her to the feet. Bare feet sliding along the floor, hot ash burned through the soles of her feet. So many troopers. Throat burned and itched suddenly, a cough working itself past her mouth. Her body shook violently as she spat out breathed in ash and smoke.

The hands hauling her did not stop, mercilessly pulling on her skin. Skin tearing along her ribs. Tears gathered in her eyes, the air itching and burning them. But she could not look away. Two big lumps laid near the marble stairs, one of the Imperial troopers standing over them. Must be the guards… it felt empty where they were.

Why did they die and she didn’t? Letting her head loll to the side, she looked over to the windows. Or more what still stood of their frames. The intricate metal patterns through the glass had been blown clean off, leaving only gaping holes. More troopers ran in, rifles drawn and crunching the glass under their boots.

Was this how she would die?

The soldiers formed lines, running over to the many doors leading away as the hair on her neck rose. Not in the times before being shocked. No. Something dark hovered over her now, just out of her reach, sucking all the heat from her limbs. She flinched, tugging at the grip of whoever was holding onto her.

_Get away_.

“Be still, slave,” a modulated voice ordered harshly.

Her body tensed up, completely still as she held her breath. They would kill her without a second thought. Though, why did they spare her to begin with? She was pushed down at the base of the stairs, cold metal snapping around her wrists and feet. Two Imperial soldiers were now in front of her, rifles trained on her face.

“Where are the other slaves?” the one on her right demanded.

Other slaves? What did they want with them? Blinking, she stared at the black visors staring down at her. Had she heard them right? Was she hallucinating? Annoyance flickered and the distinct smell of burned cartridges filled her nose. They were going to shoot her.

“They…,” she stammered out, “Upstairs, cleaning….,” a heavy swallow, “Cellar, living quarters.”

“Were you alone?” the left asked lowering their blaster.

She nodded fervently finally the smell of those burnt cartridges gone finally. Breathing out, she deflated against the cold stairs, a step digging painfully into her lower spine. Quickly she looked to the side where two more groups of the intruding soldiers kneeled by the entry door to the reception rooms for guests. Must be searching for something. Just what? Or who?

They moved like one body, moving smoothly without any pause or a moment of hesitation.

“You know the orders,” the left one sighed, “Round up the slaves and bring them to Darth Malgus.”

Darth Malgus? A Sith?! Panic shot up her spine and she looked to the destroyed window wall. Was that what she had felt? Did a Sith feel so dark? So menacing? Not quite death, but something similar. A promise of doom.

What did a Sith want with them? They were just slaves! Nothing valuable, nothing of note nor…

A sudden burst of blaster fire made her flinch. More pangs of cold needles drove into her shoulder blades. So much death. That darkness had meant death, the promise of it. How stupid was she? Loud footsteps approached through the five doors towards them. Familiar soothing feathers brushed against her mind as… Uom! The old Togruta limped on their right side, still suffering from the time from the electrocution years ago. Then Olern, Ethol… all the others were herded in, chained up like her.

In the end, all hundred slaves had been pushed into the hall. Apprehension and fear charging the spaces between them. Shock collars synced to the troopers guarding them. Unlike the guards that now were carried in as well, dead, small voids in the air…. They were kinder. If one could call the lack of punishing them with shocks as a mercy.

Though, none of them dared to make a peep. Silent they stared at anything and nothing, minds racing. Thoughts rushed past her so fast she could not grasp onto them and see.

_Red sand trickled down the walls_.

Frowning she stared at the cracks that had formed during the assault. No sand. Was she hallucinating? Maybe she was insane… like all the guests had yelled when she had been forced to tell them what she saw clinging to them.

Like that last one. Must have died. Otherwise they would not be punishing her. Even though she had done as they asked!

Suddenly the air came to still stand, the hair on her neck rising at the anticipation. The Sith was coming and whatever he had in store for them. A silent wall, not like the ones next to her. Closed off, nothing she could feel what he was thinking or feeling.

Four heavily armoured soldiers flanked the door opposite the stairs where she sat. She had to crane her neck to see who was entering. A hooded figure stepped in, coldness settling over her chest, freezing the air in her lungs. Fear sank into her heart, stopping it for a brief moment.

_Snow and crystals glittered on the ceiling_.

Blinking, she looked back to the hood hovering above the sea of the heads of the slaves she had lived with for her entire lives. The Sith, this Malgus, scanned the slaves gathered in front of him, slowly walking through the lines.

He was searching for something. Or someone specifically. Looking at everyone’s faces, studying them for a moment before moving on. By the Emperor, please not her. Would she be blamed for the man’s death too? Had he been far more important than any of the other men in white imperial attire that had come to visit before? Could she maybe skirt the selection by not even looking at him.

Just then he reached her line, approaching her steadily scrutinizing the slaves on her right.

Then he reached her, eyes locking on hers. The hair on her neck stood on end and she could feel ice coating them. Shivering, she watched with growing horror when he turned to her. Yellow eyes fixating on her discoloured one. That one flaw in her otherwise human face.

“This is the one,” he turned to the nearby soldier, who grabbed her suddenly.

What? No no. Mercy! Was she going to be executed?! Air! Where was the air?! Eyes burning, she stared as the soldier approached, rifle lowered. As if she was no threat to him.

Oh no. Not with her. She was not going to die! Not without a fight.

A prickling broke out from her neck, spreading rapidly through her limbs down to her fingertips. Somehow her hands ripped forwards, flinging the approaching soldier off his feet. It sent him crashing into another who fell over Old Uom who went sprawling to the floor.

Silence fell over them all, shock registering around the entire hall. Except the Sith, who still stood in front of her, not even a wind gust had ruffled his cloak. That had been the wind right? Must have been.

No… all her. Now her entire body was shaking. What had she done? Was this treason?!

“That is the proof,” the Sith stated waving a gauntleted hand.

With a click, her restraints fell off, thudding to the floor. Free? He freed her? Was she in a dream?

Sand filled her nose and she had to cough. Now the Sith stood directly in front of her, pulling the hood off his head. He had no hair, the veins shining black through marring his otherwise human appearance. Yellow eyes looked her over, as if looking for something specific.

Just then the groans of the Imperial soldiers that she had sent flying made her flinch away. Or maybe he had not freed her. But freed her so she could face punishment from those two?

“You will become Sith,” he suddenly said.

He must be talking…. Sith? What? Had she heard him right? Her eyes flickered to the side where other slaves were staring at her openly. Uom had lifted their head as well, small smile tugging on their mouth.

“Eleena,” he turned around waving someone else over.

A calm sense of peace washed over, soothing the frayed edges of her mind. Even nearly made the burning of the now open wounds on her back numb down. Nearly, the dull pounding still ever present.

A Twi’lek pushed through, blue skin gleaming in the now setting sun. Leather armour creaked when she kneeled in front of her. Purple eyes flitted over her face, as if looking for obvious injuries. Or… no. Now her fingers were on her scalp, making circles with her fingertips. Searching.

Searching until… a sharp burn made her hiss in pain. Just behind her ear and jaw.

“Found it,” this Eleena whispered.

Found what? As long as she no longer pressed on that spot…  Ow. She never knew about that one. How long had it been there? Gingerly, she fingered the spot Eleena’s finger had dug in.

“Looks like you have a possession chip,” she commented more loudly, gripping her wrists pulling her to the feet, “Needs to be removed surgically.”

Surgically?! But that meant… She swayed on her feet, her back twinging at the discomfort of standing. Surgery meant no one was coming back from it. No! There was no way she’d do it willingly. She was free now, right? All she had to do was open her mouth.

Only, if she could. Her mouth stayed shut. No words forming in her throat.

“Don’t worry,” Eleena said somberly not letting go, “Just means you can no longer be recognized as a slave. You will have to trust me on this.”

“Oh…,” was all she could say.

_Say more! Say no_! How could she trust any of them! They just barged in, killed how many people she had grown up with, and expected her to trust them?

Clanking to Eleena’s back made her flinch away. The two Imperials she had pushed over were on their feet again, groaning in pain. Now she had to wince. Their fall must have been painful.

“Escort her to my ship,” the Sith ordered, “make sure the medics know what to do.”

“Yes, my Lord!” they replied turning to her and Eleena.

“I will return soon,” he specifically addressed Eleena who nodded curtly, “make sure she knows what is going to happen.”

“Yes, my Lord,” she replied.

Then the Sith turned and continued inspecting the remaining slaves. But all eyes from them were glued to her. Fear, grief and hope flickered around them as Eleena started to pull her past them all. The two soldiers marching behind them with their rifles drawn. But this time their alertness did not clash against her, but enveloped around.

Not a few hours ago they would have shot her if commanded. Now? Now they were tasked with her safety.

The world had gone mad. Surely this was a dream. A twisted and sick dream. Either she had passed out and this was just one vivid dream or… she was really getting out of there. What was she supposed to feel or think? Hopeful like Uom was feeling underneath his aches? Scared like Erlien who had been born here too?

What was freedom? The way Uom had described his childhood and teenage years, it had sounded so much different from the way it felt to be a slave. According to him. Though, she had never been ‘free’. What could she know?

“Don’t worry,” Eleena whispered into her ear as she pulled her along the corridor that would lead to the main entrance, “I know you don’t feel it yet, but in a moment you will see.”

See what? What did Eleena know? It was as if a feeling memory was hovering just out of her reach. 

But then they rounded the corner to the entrance hall. It was destroyed, the usually gleaming candelabra had crashed to the floor, the gems littering the floor reflecting the sun light. She had never been further than this room. Relion had restricted her movement to the house, as massive as it was. Though apparently the gardens were vast according to the others who were responsible for its upkeep. Some had been killed for trying to take her outside once.

The doors opened and… cool evening air impacted her and she had to be pulled out. Then… she looked back, over the door threshold back inside. Where she had been all her life. Never outside.

Was this truly being free?

“Told you,” Eleena giggled, “Come on.”

Trees lined the path. Larger than she would have imagined. How did… actually, she could know what the tree trunks felt like. How did it smell like? She just had to walk over.

Her feet took her there, on their own. Sadness drifted over before it diffused within the leaves. Looking back she saw Eleena’s face fall back into a cheery expression. But that sadness had been from her. Definitely, there was no mistaking.

The leaves rustled above her and she looked back up. Never had she seen the leaves move before. Her hand touched the bark. Rough, unevenly rough. There were grooves, the edges digging into the skin of her palms. Why were there grooves in a tree?

Now how did leaves feel like?

“What is she doing?” someone asked quietly, uncertainty oscillating between the two soldiers.

“Just let her,” Eleena commented wistfully, “She is seeing this for the first time.”

Stunned silence fell over the two soldiers. Until understanding dawned that switched rapidly with pity. Pity…. She did not need pity.

What she needed were the lost years back! She formed a fist against the bark, anger surging up. They took it from her. All these years, all her life. All that she had been good for was get him his money, his partner’s secrets if she saw any. Just a tool. A means to an end. Heat flared up from her chest.

Blood ran down the grooves.

Never would she be used again.

A loud crack made her jump away. Surprised she looked at the large rip going through the bark, brownish liquid leaking out now. Oh…, she did it. Why had that power never surfaced when she needed it the most?

“Let’s keep moving,” Eleena was back at her side, gripping her shoulders, “They can no longer keep you here.”

But they could make her become a Sith. Somehow, she had traded one enslavement to another. Shouldn’t she be able to choose?

Though, she bit her tongue before the question slipped out. Would she want to risk being killed? Maybe… she looked at Eleena properly now, she could do her part. The two scars at each side of the Twi’leks neck was all she needed to see.

Sith had power. Which fool would not grasp for it to achieve their goal?

They reached a shuttle standing in an oval patch out of concrete. The estate was only two fingers width high when she looked back. Already so far away? So small. How had she lived there all her life? Never stepping out? Just how?

A loud hiss made her flinch. Whirling around, she stared wide-eyed, as a ramp lowered revealing a door that slid open. Though, she could not see what was inside with how dark it was in there. A ship! She was going to fly?! On what planet were they even?

Eleena giggled quietly at her side, dragging to the ramp and up. Chills ran up her arms when the familiar flow of conditioned air hit her. Somehow her feet could no longer move, mouth open when she finally saw the inside of a ship. A lot of grey metal and artificial light. But there was a row of seats around a holo-com table with several doors leading away from the room.

“The medical room is to your right,” Eleena pointed at the door.

“Alright…,” she finally could say.

Then she had to cringe at how high pitched her voice was. Slowly she approached the door, which as soon as she was ten feet away, slid open revealing a man in a white coat.

“Doc, we need a chip removed! Also some injuries patched up,” Eleena yelled pushing her into the room amusement sparking all around.

The man looked aghast when she stumbled in. Obviously too dirty for him and…, she stepped onto her right foot. Not many clothes on her either. Just a tunic and pants. Bloodied at that too. Must be pathetic to look at.

Then he sighed, resignation colouring his face.

“Alright, please sit down.”

Even the bench was softer than the bed roll she had slept on! She slid a finger over the leather that spanned it. There was a metal one further in the corner next to bacta tanks. But… it was so smooth!

“Hold still,” the Doc said to her left.

The pinch was nothing, not after the whip lashes she had been subjected to days ago. A syringe was now stuck on the inside of her elbow. Blue liquid was pushed into her blood, spreading coolness from the limb up. Soothing and… she felt her eye lids fluttering.

Tired.

Tired? She was not tired?! Panicked, she looked up. Doc and Eleena were crowded around her, staring at her. As if waiting for something. What had they done to her?! How stupid was she to trust them. Her hand shot out, gripping through the air. What had she been trying to hold onto? It was like her mind had been encased between sponges, soaking her brain with water.

Her side impacted with the hard armrest, head tilting over.

And then it went all dark.


	2. Chapter 2

“The whiplashes do not warrant a bacta tank stay just yet,” a nasally voice said somewhere to her right, “However the bandages will need to stay on for at least a week.”

Bandages? Where was she even? Last she knew she had been on the Sith’s ship. A low humming swung in the air, just above the clouds in her head. Were those engines? Sounded like when the kitchen machines were turned on early in the morning. Vibrating underneath the slave quarters. Where she would no longer sleep…

Was she truly about to become a Sith?

They must have sedated her. For that surgery… one she had not wanted. There was a light pinch pulling at her scalp behind her right ear while something tight had been wrapped around her back and chest. Must be the bandages they were talking about. Her eyelids were so heavy. Come one, open! What kind of Sith could not fight off a sedative?

A weak one. Like her. Open, damn it.

“She is fighting for consciousness,” the Sith, Malgus, stated, “Interesting.”

Could he sense that? Her mind felt like it was padded in layers of cloth.

Finally, her eyelids lifted for a brief crack. Blinding light stabbed through, stabbing her eyes. Groaning she squeezed them back shut. Why was there a light shining directly into her eyes? Had there been a light when they had sedated her? It was fuzzy. All she could remember were their two faces hovering over her before blacking out. Not good. Remember, she had to remember! Her fingers lay on a hard surface. Felt like metal that also pressed on her back and back of her skull. Definitely was lying on something that was made out of metal. 

A bench? Quiet beeping filtered through the engine humming, somewhere to her far right. Beeping. Medical bay? Still there? Weren’t people being usually taken out immediately after being worked on?

Or was this another difference between slaves and free people? One she was not aware of? Though, she winced when another awful pinch behind her ear sparked up, Relion and his immediate circle had all a separate med bay, where she was never allowed to come close to. Too dirty the medics had sneered when they had to scrub the floor around it.

Either way, she had to get up and… and what? Go and hide? Work on whatever the overseers told her to do? All of that was over. Remember? She was free!

Free? Her?

This was… it should feel differently. Not so much like a day where she woke up already knowing what her work was going to be. Or the beating she would have to endure without a word. Uom had made it feel so different, that there would be choices that would just be her own. Had he lied? Had everyone else who had not been born into slavery lied to her?

Though, now she would see and know what it was? From a slave to being free and then suddenly she was in the talks of becoming Sith. Had she decided that? No! It had been decided for her. Was she truly free if her life was still decided over her head?

“Do the sedatives knock someone out for that long?” Eleena questioned, concern vibrating on her left.

“A healthy human would not be out for that long,” the doctor replied.

Metal clicked against each other after his answer, from behind her just as water sloshed up briefly.

“So…?” Eleena sounded unsure, closer now.

How were they all moving so silently? Unnerving. Engines, voices. But no footsteps? Was she going insane?

Eyes. Open! Come on! Once she had those open, she could work on fingers and limbs.

“I said ‘ _healthy_ ’ human beings,” the doctor snapped, “And this girl is by far from healthy.”

Unhealthy? Her? Relion… she had all her limbs and got food when she needed it! The beatings were not as brutal as they could have been! Unhealthy meant… sold off and the mines. No, remember, Sith! And no Sith would ever give up.

Just then her heart clenched painfully, when the familiar darkness crept up her spine. Hairs prickled on her neck.

“The fighting spirit is present,” the Sith commented.

Gleefully in a way. In a way that… it made her skin crawl. What was there to be gleeful about? She was even struggling to be awake! Pathetic. Fighting spirit. By the stars, were his senses off? Fighting spirit was something completely else! Not this!

“Give it an hour or more,” the doctor sniffed his nose, “I gave her enough to knock out for two days.”

“Two days?” Eleena squeaked, ”Couldn’t you have dosed it lower?”

“She would have been conscious otherwise,” the man shrugged audibly, “but due to her weight… or rather lack of, it had an amplified effect. And as his Lordship said, she is already waking up.”

“Fighting for it,” Eleena corrected.

The Sith was silent, letting the two bicker at the other. As if it didn’t bother him. Relion would not have tolerated such talk amongst his household. Any word out of place, if it was anyone but her and if unasked, they would have lost their tongue. Uom had told her about how more severe the Sith were. What he had seen and heard from other slaves, though he never really told her why he had been in the service of a Sith and was then sold to another Master.

They were waiting whether she woke up. Expectations of success or failure? It was all muddled, the steady humming of the machines drowning out any whispers she usually heard. Neither could she see, her eyelids still oh so heavy.

Those whispers… would they come back?

Open you stupid eyes, stars be damned! She would not fail before she had even had the chance to step on that path with her own feet.

Finally, her eyes opened. Slowly, but steadily. Bright light stabbed through her eyeballs and she had to groan.

Ow. Squinting she turned her head to the side, where Eleena’s voice had sounded from. There the Twi’lek was, eyes round and a stunned flare brushed past her. So… she hadn’t thought she’d be able to do it?

Surprise?

“You are awake,” the Sith spoke up behind.

Smugness practically dripped from every word. What were the right address to a Sith again? Oh right….

“My Lord,” she rasped out, her throat felt like it was lined with sand.

“You have been freed and your owner chip removed,” his voice shifted and now his footsteps, heavy boots clanking on metal, walked around her side.

“Thank you, my Lord,” she said trying to swallow with her dry throat.

Might be best to sit up. No one liked if the one they were talking to was not facing them. Least a Sith Lord, if Relion’s reactions were anything to go by. Should she ask what became of him? They said that she was free, but her Master was never one to let up anything he had regarded his possession. What had they done or offered to him so that he’d let her go?

Carefully, she shifted one arm underneath her chest, hand pressing flatly onto the bench. The bandages they had mentioned pulled on her skin, coldness pooling from a liquid that suddenly smeared around. Such a weird… what was this? The bacta that was so precious that it would never be wasted on a slave, when she had been one, such as her?

Was this a perk that came with being a prospective Sith now?

Her head swam when she sat upright, the Sith now in her full view. Hood still down and arms crossed, staring down at her with his sickly yellow eyes. The cloth of his cloak glittered suddenly, until it was gone. Blinking, she rubbed her eyes. A trick of the light? Not everything could be a future, though she had _seen_ something when he had first appeared.

Just like the red sand, that was still in her throat. If she only knew what it meant! Not even Relion had known where red sand existed. There were deserts everywhere! Just not that particularly shade of red. How many evenings had Relion made her look at holos of so many types of sand. Never the one she always saw.

Everyone was silent. Had someone said something and she had missed it? No, all eyes were on the Sith. She had to pay attention.

“Master Relion has committed treason,” the Sith started to explain, “on two accounts. Murder of a Moff and you. Along side with other charges, rather inconsequential.”

Her? Treason? That made no sense? She had been just a slave?! How was this treasonous? Eleena’s lips had disappeared into a thin line, eyes glazed over as she looked to the ceiling. Pity prickled below the Twi’lek’s skin. Until it got clamped down as soon as it had appeared.

“You do not understand?” Malgus asked, a surprised tilt in his words.

She shook her head, throat still too closed up, still scratchy and burning. Those eyes hardened a fraction, just an ice cold shiver ran down her spine.

The formalities! Stupid stupid her! How could she forget?

“My Lord,” she hastily added, voice breaking at the last syllable.

“The laws of imperial space dictate that anyone strong in the Force needs to be registered and send to the academies at the appropriate age,” Malgus replied, tone level now.

The Force? Those whispers were the Force? Was that why others never heard them or saw what she had seen? So how was she a slave then? If she could use the Force as the Sith? Weren’t Sith born into their positions by virtue of their family? Her mother had been a slave like her!

“Since Master Relion failed to register you, he committed a crime equal to treason,” Malgus finished.

“Yes, my Lord,” was all she could say.

For a moment no one said anything, eyes all on her. Waiting for more? Before she could say anything, footsteps and a nervous frazzling interrupted anything she might have thought of saying.

“My Lord,” a man in a white uniform poked his head into the bay, “Overseer Ioph wishes to speak to you.”

“I will talk to him shortly,” Malgus did not bother to turn around, “make sure no one is on the bridge when I do.”

“Yes, my Lord,” the man bowed before disappearing closing the door.

“Delay jump to Hyperspace, my Lord?” Eleena asked, already lifting her wrist where a small holo-device was built into her braces.

“Yes,” Malgus replied, for some reason his voice was softer, “await my word on departure.”

Then he stared at her again, at her blood stained tunic and lack of boots. Her toes curled in on themselves, their tips numb. Was it cold in here? She felt warm, relatively.

“You will come with me,” he commanded, tone cold and hard.

“My Lord,” she mumbled sliding off the medical bench.

This was starting out well…

What was an Overseer here? Not like a slave overseer for sure. Right? Malgus brushed past the medic and Eleena who had already turned her back to them by the time the blast door slid shut. Her feet tapped lightly on the floor, the humming going through the soles and up to her knees. So much different than the floor at the mansion.

They were on a different ship! Must have changed when she was still out. How had she not noticed it? Malgus strode in front of her, his heavy boots clanking with each step. So loud! Rubbing her ears to keep the sound from echoing in her skull, she tried to keep up with the fast pace he had set.

Everyone here seemed to be so much taller than her. Towering at least always a head above her, she had to crane her head to just even look up at them. They rounded a corner into another corridor which ended in a blast door that was guarded by three Imperials. Men that were relatively relaxed, no spikes of fear stabbing at her forehead. They bowed as soon as they saw Malgus approaching with her in tow, filing themselves to stand at the wall away from the door. Mute while their eyes were now glued on her probably pathetic appearance.

Would she be punished for asking for boots?

So this was a bridge? A room where computers beeped and holo-simulations drew white lines in the air? A large window, viewport according to Uom, spanned the opposite side of the room, small white dots blinking in the black void that lay beyond. Stars? Were they in space already?

It… was underwhelming. Eranya had told of the colours and how big everything was compared to one self. This? This was disappointing. Everything was just... black.

In front of the wide viewport was a huge holo-communicator, almost larger than the one Relion had in his office. Small lights lit up from its console, soft but incessant beeping blaring over to them. A held call.

Malgus pressed a button, a ripple of annoyance running over his usual blank mind and said, “Overseer, have you waited long?”

A holo-image of a tall and burly armoured man appeared on projector, arms crossed while pacing back and forth in a small area. Peculiar armour, though the armour plates on the shoulders were similar to Malgus’ just less pronounced. Was this a sort of rank code in their armour? Like with Relion’s guests? White armour meant important Imperials, while the opulent golden robes were other corporation owners.

“My Lord,” the man stopped pacing to bow at the waist with his left hand placed above his heart, “We have received your message and I see you brought the acolyte with you.”

The man’s eyes fixated on her, her skin burned where his eyes trailed over her. Assessing and calculating.

“Her owner did not register her with our files,” Malgus explained, “She will need to be brought to the Ziost Academy.”

“She does not look like she’d survive one day,” the man scoffed, looking now solely at Malgus.

“How old are you girl?” Malgus turned his torso to her, both Sith looking at her intently.

Somehow she just wanted to disappear from the withering stares both men were throwing at her. Rubbing her forearms, she stepped forward, tongue still glued to the roof of her mouth. How old she was? Right, easy to answer. If only

“Thirteen, my Lords,” she answered, her voice cracked towards the end.

“Name?” the overseer probed, annoyance seeping into his tone.

Her stomach tightened, seeing how the man’s mouth set into a thin line, lips almost disappearing.

“Edenye, my Lord,” she answered hastily, her nails now digging into the skin.

“Surname?”

“None,” she shook her head.

“Of course you have none,” the man admonished.

Almost gleefully so. What was a surname though? Confused she looked at Malgus who locked eyes with her for a moment, before understanding dawned in them. Would someone please tell her what a surname was?

“Ioph, put her surname down as Scyne,” Malgus suddenly said.

The overseer, Ioph, jerked violently when he heard what Malgus had said.

“My Lord,” he sputtered, “Are you sure?”

“Do I need to repeat myself?” Malgus bit back, obviously not a question.

Scyne? Had he just given her a surname? Now if only she knew what it meant and why Ioph seemed completely off balance. Or… more like his head was trying to catch up with what just had been said, as if it was completely unthinkable.

“No, my Lord,” the man sighed, “I will await your arrival. When can I expect you?”

“In three days and I expect no _trouble_ ,” Malgus answered already leaning forward, a hand hovering over the button that would cut the transmission.

Why should there be trouble? Before she could ask, or open her mouth, Malgus had turned to her again, eyes boring into her own. Searching for something. Briefly only until they hardened with resignation. What was going on?

“Of course, my Lord,” Ioph replied, bowing at the waist just as Malgus cut the transmission.

The blue flimmering of the hologram vanished, the buzzing of the electronics powered down and warmth returned to her arms. Stars, what had just happened in front of her? But the way Malgus was already looking over her head, towards a row of computers, she’d never be told either. Maybe one day? He brushed past her, activating a console that started to light up with green lights.

“What do you know of the Force?” Malgus suddenly asked, not bothering to turn around to her.

“I heard of it first from you, my Lord,” she answered.

Where was she to stand right now? Follow him? Stay where she was? What was she supposed to do? Master Relion had never prepared her for this!

“Then you have a long way to go,” he stated before the beeping of a typed in message droned out even her thoughts.

“Yes, my Lord,” she mumbled.

Malgus did not answer, still typing in a message to Ioph probably. Were the forms to fill out like Relion did whenever she had been summoned to his chambers?

“Your deference does you credit, but that will get you killed in the academy,” Malgus continued coldly, a note of disgust seeping through.

Disgust? At her? Gripping the thin sleeves of her tunic, that now was stuck like glue to her back, she watched him type in silence for a moment. What did he mean by her getting killed? Her tongue felt like it was now stuck to the bottom of her mouth, all saliva gone. What was she supposed to say anyways? Pressure built up behind her eyes and she had to bite her bottom lip hard to not burst into tears.

All of this was so unfair! She did not ask for any of this! And now all she had learned could get her killed?! No, not with her! Was she asked? No! Why would they? Pretend she was free, but right now it was as if she had been sold off! Sith were no slaves! Why was she being treated like one?!

The beeping stopped and for a moment the air in the bridge stopped moving, the entire ship waited with held breath what was about to happen. A black ring had formed around her vision when Malgus turned around. Amusement glittering on his formerly blank mind as she observed her. Clenched fists and close to bursting into tears. Pathetic, truly.

“I see that the overseer might be proven wrong,” Malgus chuckled leaning against the console, arms crossed.

Waiting, eyes trained on her face that heated up under his stare. Why was this so funny to him? Nothing about this was something to laugh at! A prickling started from under her skull, pounding against it trying to escape her head. Her fingers were numb as she stretched them out from her fists, spreading them out.

“Go on,” Malgus was laughing loudly, “I know you are itching to lash out.”

He wanted her to do… what? Lash out? What… why? Cheeks cooled down, as if the cold breeze had blown over the skin. Somehow her stomach was like a stone, so heavy that she was swaying on her feet. Or why was everything so blurry and fuzzy?

Then she struck out.

Everything warped around, colours washed together…

_Until they jarred into focus and everything glittered, sparkled around her. Snow… so much snow and wind howled in her ears. Coldness, frigid ice pouring in her blood freezing her in place. Where was she? This…, she looked up… a black sky, but white strips of stars sprinkled it. Not like any sky she had seen. Snow crunched underneath footsteps behind her and she whipped around._

_There was Malgus… and they were… on a ship? Not the bridge, but a throne room. Fire roared to life around her, licking at her skin. Whereas Malgus just stood there, his weapon on the ground. Discarded as he stared on the throne that now crumbled to dust._

_But then she was on grass, two shadowy figures shrouded by long and billowy cloaks stood in front of a group of trees. One was kneeling in front of another, hands held out a small object held out in reverence. Liquid seeped through her toes and she had to look down._

_Blood. So much blood that now rose to her ankles._

Then a loud beep screeched through her skull, ringing painfully through her ears. Just then she felt a hand, cold and hard on her forehead pressing down on her head while another held her head up with her legs curled on metallic floor.

Groaning she opened her eyes. Malgus’ face greeted her first, a satisfied hum around him. As if he had accomplished something worth being gleeful about.

What had just happened?

Or more, what had she done? What had she seen?

“Not the outcome I expected, but a satisfactory one regardless,” he commented taking the hand on her forehead away.

Her tongue was stuck to the bottom of her mouth, throat too dry to form words. Only, what did he mean? Expectations? Swallowing she looked past his shoulder from her position on the floor.

Was the metal on the ceiling warped? Or was she seeing this wrong?

“You did that,” Malgus clarified, pulling her up by her neck.

Her neck strained when her legs hung down her feet not quite getting a hold onto the floor underneath. Stars, the pain! Her back pulled underneath the bandages, tearing along the wounds that had finally subsided. It hurt!

So much. A cry bubbled forth, choked and breathless.

A large tear went along the ceiling, jagged ends of metal bending down towards them. It looked like paper that had been torn apart. How? Stunned, she stared up when her feet finally found a hold on the floor and Malgus’ hand disappeared from her neck.

Her? But… she could barely lift the heavy flour sacks in the kitchens! How would she ever….

“The Force is powerful,” Malgus chuckled already walking to the blast doors, “I prevented further damage to the ship. But you need to be trained and that is why you will become Sith.”

Training?

“My Lord,” she started, “I am…,” she stopped when Malgus threw her a curious look.

“Yes?” he probed, “Speak freely, _acolyte_.”

“I can’t be Sith,” she said quietly.

“Why not?” Malgus waved the door open the three guards outside fearfully staring in.

“At ease,” Malgus  said directly at them, “File a report for maintenance when we arrive at Ziost.”

“Yes, my Lord,” they replied in unison, uncertainty wavering their tones.

“I am waiting for you answer,” Malgus then continued already striding past them.

She had to run to keep up with him before replying, “I am a slave!”

“You _were_ a slave,” Malgus corrected striding in the opposite direction of the med bay.

Where were they going?

“Keep this in mind, anyone can be Sith,” he waved open another set of blast doors.

If he said so… still felt wrong on so many levels. Her to become someone like him? Something he seemed to believe possible. What Sith said was true Relion had always said, no matter how outlandish it sounded. So she just had to believe.

“Yes, my Lord,” she mumbled back.

More guards were posted around this section, all with their rifles ready to be drawn and fired. Anxiety and a tautness surrounding them. Like the days when a Moff would visit them or another higher ranking guest.

“You will be admitted to an academy until you are old enough to undergo the trials,” Malgus explained as they reached a door where only one guard stood.

“Trials?” she asked almost on instinct.

He looked at her with a raised eyebrow. Oh… she forgot the address… stupid her.

“My Lord,” she added hastily.

“Only the strong come out of the trials,” Malgus answered, “you will be pitted against others.”

Against others? Was this a competition? What happened to those who lost? Her stomach had formed a tight knot, the hair on her neck had risen and fizzled at the ends. Nothing good then.

“My Lord, what if one does not succeed?” she asked cautiously.

“They die,” was his simple answer.

Nonchalantly blunt. As if it was nothing horrible and terrifying to know. Death? Becoming Sith could mean death? To her? Or should she succeed the death of others? Who would want to be part of something that… Her hand gripped the tunic above her stomach, where the knot was starting to twist and turn. Hopefully she was not going to be sick.

“You disapprove,” Malgus commented with a hardened tone.

What was she supposed to answer? If she said that the idea of being the cause of death of another being was making her stomach turn, would he regard her as too weak? Only the strong would come out he had said. Why let in a weak her in then?

“Your silence tells me you are rethinking,” he did not let her reply anymore, “There is something you need to remember if you want to succeed.”

She looked up, straight into his bright yellow eyes that bored back. Searching for something, what she was not sure.

“Peace is a lie,” he intoned coldly, “Remember it.”


	3. Chapter 3

Malgus left her in a vast chambers, not as large as the private chambers of Relion used for sleeping. Though… she had to crane her neck to look around the room. What he had called his office. Grey walls and floor with red banners with the imperial stars sown on it. Never had she seen so many imperial stars. Definitely not that big nor with the obvious pride taken into their arrangement behind the desk that had neatly stacked datapads on one side while the other side sported several holo-transmission ports.

She was sitting on a bench, well couch as Malgus had described it, all padded out in red fabric and a soft and thick carpet underneath her toes. Still no boots so her naked toes dug into the fabric, seeking out the warmth seeping into the outer layers of her skin. Could toes look this blue? A pleasantly warm tingling spread from her nose, faint at first. Someone was approaching, someone she knew.

Eleena?

Rubbing her forearms she turned her torso to face the door where the Twi’lek would surely enter at any moment. Not a second later the blast doors slid open and revealed Eleena who was carrying a crate.

“I saw your name is Edenye?” Eleena asked warmly stepping in with the doors closing behind them.

How did she know her name? Her mouth opened, but she closed it quickly. Too stunned to even formulate a word in her mind.

“Darth Malgus told me,” Eleena smiled depositing the crate onto the low table in front of the couches, “and I scrounged some clothes for you from our armoury. Oh and boots.”

There was nothing she could say. Boots and clothes? All to a former slave?

“I… thank you,” she breathed out standing up from the couch to approach the crate.

Eleena’s smile widened slightly, soft feathers brushed past her cheeks quickly. Too quickly for her to grasp what it had meant.

“Not something you hear a lot,” Eleena said softly while opening the crate lid.

“What do you mean?” she asked, eyebrows raising on their own.

Eleena just sent her a sad smile, something bubbling in her mind. Too closed off to grasp, but it was there pounding against whatever walls she had erected. But… she could see the way her smile did not seem to quite reach her eyes or the way the corners of her mouth quivered as if it was taking a lot of energy to keep it up. Like her mother… what she could still remember of her. Even then those memories were starting to fade already.

“Don’t worry about it,” Eleena’s smile stabilized just as the eyes lit up brightly.

Somehow… she felt like she was supposed to worry about it. But should she?

“If you say so?” she questioned, looking down to the now open crate.

There was a heap of grey cloth in it with black portions sticking out in some places. Clothes? For her? Stunned she looked back to Eleena who had a hand pressed to her mouth. Whatever she was feeling was now pushing strongly against her mind and she winced. Pain. Pain that went straight to her heart, tightening around it like a fist. Like the pain she had felt when her mother didn’t return one evening and when Uom had told her that she would never come back.

Loss. A word she had not known until a few months ago.

Though, she was not going to tell her.

“Go on,” Eleena said twisting both of her hands together in front of her jerking her head towards a smaller blast door almost hidden behind two large shelves stacked with datapads, “The fresher is through that door.”

Malgus had his own fresher? Her eyes widened and she looked back from the door to the crate sitting on the table. Why was she allowed to have access to it?

“No non-Sith is allowed to share the same facilities than a Sith,” Eleena sighed her shoulders lowering in defeat, “Just… go and change.”

She grabbed the clothes from the crate and hurried to the door that swished open at her approach. It was a small fresher, smaller than she had seen from Relion’s private chambers when he had wanted to keep an eye on her. But it was more straight lined, practical and not as decorated from what she had known. The bundle in her arms suddenly weighed so much that she had to put it down on the counter near a sink. A tiny rug was situated in front of it, her poor toes finally regaining some more warmth from the warmer floor.

Maybe things were looking up for her finally?

Should she wash her face too? The mirror was too high up to see nothing but the crown of her head. Or had they done that when she had been unconscious from the sedative? Her arms shook badly as she heaved herself up, her face shifting into the mirror.

Was this how she looked like? A human looking alien? Like the guards had called her when they thought she had not been listening? Her shoulders sacked and she fell back onto her heels. No wonder she had been a slave… How could an alien become Sith? Malgus seemed sure, even enrolled her into an academy.

Changing out of the clothes she had had for the last couple of years was strange, the cloth cold and lacking any familiarity that she had sensed. Not that the new tunic with imperial insignia felt any different. Half-way through putting on the tunic, she felt the distinct shiver running up her spine. Meant Malgus was in the chambers, obviously waiting for her to be done. Had she taken so long to have not noticed his approach?

Malgus hovered behind Eleena who sat on the couch, eyes fixed to a spot at the far wall away from them all. Her pain bled over to Malgus, seeping into his exposed skin and she could feel a resolve forming in his mind. Or more… resolve and a decision that were still to be made. Past pain and more to come that connected the two.

Should she tell Eleena? Or Malgus?

No… if she could sense it, then surely he had and telling something that was already known was an offense.

“What _do_ you know of the Force?” Malgus asked immediately once he ripped his eyes from the Twi’lek whose back straightened out.

All composed and blank spaces. Frowning she looked at the two staring back at her, a large space felt between those two. Was she even sure she had sensed it? Also what was the Force?

“Nothing except what you told me, my Lord,” she replied twisting her hands together in front of her.

Malgus said nothing for a while, giving her an assessing glare before sighing while pinching the bridge of his nose.

“You have a long way to go if you want to survive,” he muttered lifting a hand to wave at Eleena, “Tell Captain Lomern that I will be with him later for his debriefing.”

“Yes, my Lord,” Eleena replied quickly.

She was gone just as fast, the movement almost a blur before the blast doors slid shut behind her. Leaving just her and the Sith in the chambers. For a brief moment Malgus stared at the now shut blast doors, then with a faint flicker of exhaustion, he turned to her.

“Has your Master not told you anything?” he probed motioning for her to come closer.

“Nothing, my Lord,” she replied as she dragged her feet over the floor.

The new boots pressed uncomfortably into her heels and the sides as she approached him until she stood four feet away. 

He huffed pointing at the seat opposite him. A silent command to sit down which she followed hastily. Her limbs were too stiff and slow so it was an awkward fumble at best. Face burning she looked back up at the Sith who had not moved a single muscle.

“The Force,” Malgus himself sat down, leaning his elbows on his knees pressing his fingers together, “is what gives us power.”

Power? But… how?

“What you feel, sense is the more adequate word, is because of the Force,” he explained further.

Alright. She could follow him so far.

“So…,” she swallowed heavily when he looked at her waiting for her to ask, “It is power?”

He grinned, black veins twisting in his face, “No, it gives it to us.”

Now she had to frown. So it gave power, but was not power? Where did it take the power from then? Amusement flared up and she could already hear the laughter vibrating.

“I can hear you thinking,” he was chuckling now, “The Force is everything. It binds and divides. How you use it is completely up to you and that is its power.”

“My choice?” she asked rubbing her palms as a chill ran down her spine.

“Remember what I said?” he probed.

“Peace is a lie?” she replied quickly.

“Yes…,” he drawled, “For that power you have to fight.”

Fight? But she had never fought for anything… and what she saw or sensed had just come to her.

“You have a gift. A tool to fight for that power. Not power itself, but still given by the Force.”

Now her head was swirling. So not only power? But her gift? What gift?

“And I fight the Force for that power?” she asked raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” he stated, “If you do not fight for anything, nothing will be given to you.”

A knot had formed in her throat, not even could she swallow. To endlessly fight? For power? How did that even feel like? Why should she know?

“You were freed to be trained. You were born to be Sith, and that means to fight to be free.”

Free? The Force meant freedom? She looked down to her fingers that were still clasped together. Did that mean she had to fight to have the freedom to be able to make choices?

“I am not truly free?” she asked scratching her forehead.

Her mind was spinning with everything he was saying. It all made no sense to her! Why say she was freed when she was not? What?

“You confuse some terms,” Malgus sighed rubbing his forehead, “You are free in all legality in the Empire. But you are to become Sith. As Sith you have a duty to the Empire.”

“So…,” she scratched her head, “A more metaphorical non-freedom?”

Malgus simply stared at her for a moment, uncertainty wavering around until it all dissolved into a sharp amusement.

“I suppose you could call it that,” his mouth had twisted upwards, “But in essence that is true.”

“What kind of fighting am I expected to do?”

“How?”

“Yes?” she cocked her head to the side.

Was this not obvious?

Malgus blinked, caught completely by surprise it seemed. Yellow eyes no longer boring into her own, but for once genuinely looking at her with no scrutiny. Her lower back started prickling when he blinked again, rubbing a hand over his mouth. That gentle amusement jarred suddenly, snapping back to his mind. Though, the open curiousity remained when he put his hand back down to clasp it with the other again.

“I cannot tell you,” he sighed, “The Force is different to each of us. You never knew about its existence until I told you while I grew up knowing and honing my connection to it.”

“So how can I be expected to fight it then?”

“That is up to you to find out,” Malgus said a sort of pensiveness weighed them down.

“How?”

At that his lips drew into a thin line immediately, annoyance flashed so briefly it could have almost been her imagination. But it had been there. Oh no… she offended a Sith. That was it, that was it. She was going to die. Her arms were shaking, knees knocking against each other as she could not tear her eyes away from Malgus whose face swam out of focus. Not even the yellow eyes were indistinguishable from the blankness in front of her.

Two hands were suddenly grasping her shoulders, forcing them to stop shaking so badly. Even though her ears were rushing, she could see blue blurs moving in front of her. Just as the black mass stood up. Cold wind whipped into her face, the taste of blood filling her mouth. But it was more muted, almost as if she was feeling everything through glass. Like the times she had pressed her nose to the manor windows when it had been storming outside.

“You are alright,” Eleena whispered into her ears, breaking through the rushing, “What is happening?”

There was no answer. For a moment only.

“Panic,” a simple statement.

Later, at least it felt like life times, she could see clearly again. The pattern on the ceiling jerked back into clarity. She was lying on a carpet, a cold cloth had been placed on her forehead. Her throat was so dry… swallowing felt like chewing on cardboard. Punishment? Had she… No. No punishment. Relion was no longer here and even if, he could no longer touch her.

Water…

“You are back,” Eleena probed gently, a loud rustling coming from behind her head.

Her voice was glued to her throat. Answering was out of her capabilities right now. A hand slid underneath her skull, fingers pressing gently against her temple, lifting her up. She had been gone? Seemed like it. Her throat felt like finger nails were scratching viciously at skin, drawing blood. Something hard pressed against her lower lip, the feel of water so close prickled at the skin of her cheek.

“Drink,” Eleena pushed the glass harder against the lip forcing her to tip her head backwards.

The water was too cold, the lashes on her back starting to burn when her shoulder blades started to shake under the bandages. No… it was making it worse. She shook her head, jerking her head away.

“I know…,” Eleena soothed stroking her temple, “But you need water.”

She knew?

“Drink,” Eleena insisted, the edge of the glass clinking against her teeth now.

No. What were they trying to do with her? Shaking her head, she squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her lips tightly together.

“Is she being stubborn?” Malgus’ voice was like cotton bouncing in her skull.

Eleena said nothing, the glass was pushed further into her mouth. This time, the water was forced down. Too much, she coughed. It flooded her nose, spraying out running down her chin and neck.

“She had a panic attack,” Eleena whispered, “Do you….”

“I remember,” Malgus sighed and she could hear leather creaking somewhere to her left before metal clanked on metal.

“What did you…?”

Malgus sighed, a sort of heaviness permeating over weighing her shoulders down. Regret? It felt so much like regret that… she squeezed her eyes tighter. That pain that wiggled underneath his and Eleena’s mind, it was connected with that regret.

Why? Hadn’t he been a blank wall a moment ago? She knew too much now… Why… why always her? This was not going to end well. Her stomach twisted painfully the longer she sensed it. Stars, what would she give to be able to never feel these inklings! Those were what got her lashes when they were bad.

Whatever Malgus’ future was… she wanted no part in it. Also meant he could never know she knew anything. Though, at this point… if she could feel anything. What would make her think that Malgus would not sense it too? Stupid her! Stupid stupid! Why would she assume that she had a better insight than an actual Sith?

He probably knew already. Another insult to him probably.

Careful, he could still decide she was too much work to deal with and kill her.

“I…,” he started before stopping himself, his eyes glued to her forehead, “Best not here.”

“Yes, my Lord,” Eleena replied.

Though, bitterness flooded her mouth and she squirmed at its intensity which reached over her nose. Stomach twisted so much, that bile shot into her throat. Coughing, her eyes flew open and she stared directly into Eleena’s.

“Please drink more,” she pleaded more insistently once more holding the glass up to her.

Alright… she needed it anyways to speak. Or beg for her life when Malgus remembered that he had been annoyed with her to begin with. At least Eleena did not tip the glass so much that she had to choke on it.

Stars, it was such a relief to her starched throat!

“I think,” Malgus said slowly, “That I need to show you some things before we arrive at the academy.”

Malgus’ bed chambers were spacious when he led her inside, putting his folded cloak onto a chair near a desk. A bed was pushed towards a viewport on the opposite the blast door covered in a huge red blanket tugged into its sides. Though, she frowned, it was far too big for one person alone. No, it felt like it was too big for one person and Malgus seemed to be determined to not look at it.

As if… she glanced back where Eleena leaned against the door frame, eyes cast down to the floor. Had he someone to sleep in it with? Strange.

“Sit,” he pointed towards a carpet that was laid out in the middle with an Imperial star stitched on it, “It would be easier that way.”

“How so?” slipped out and heat flushed into her cheeks when Malgus looked back.

Though, for once he seemed not annoyed. Only… thinking. Her knees folded like a vibro-scissor snapping shut. She had to put her hands down to catch herself from falling on her face. Ouch, the boots she had been given were squishing her toes. That had not helped.

“You will see,” he answered shooting a look to Eleena.

“I will come back in a few hours, my Lord,” she bowed at the waist pushing herself away.

“Of course,” Malgus stared at the closed blast door for a few more moments before looking back at her.

For a long heartbeat they said nothing. Though Malgus rubbed his forefingers against their thumbs together. Something Uon had a habit of doing when he was nervous or trying to figure something tricky out.

“Do you hear whispers?” he asked bluntly making her look back at him.

What? Whispers? This constant buzzing that could be ignored easily? Could not be it. Everyone heard them.

“Whispers?” she asked folding her knees.

Malgus blew out a long breath, looking to the side to a wardrobe.

“You don’t hear them?”

“I… do?”

He frowned, confusion shining through now.

“I can ignore them though?” she hastily added.

Understanding dawned on his face, a small smirk tugging up one corner of his mouth.

“That is good,” he stated kneeling down now, not even a foot of space between them.

“So…,” she had to swallow when his eyes bored down suddenly, “That is the Force?”

He nodded, “Indeed. If you already learned to push it out of your active consciousness on your own, you have taken the first step to control it.”

“Peace is a lie?”

Now his smirk grew, both corners twitching upwards, “You learn quickly. Good. You will need it.”

“What do you want to show me?”

“You need control,” he explained rubbing his fingertips together, “Without it you will die.”

Why was everything leading to death here?!

“Where you will go,” Malgus heaved a sigh, “Any weakness can and will ultimately lead to failure. Failure is not tolerated once you reach your trials.”

“When will those trials be?”

“When you are deemed ready.”

“How?”

“Don’t worry about that just yet,” Malgus held up his left index finger, “if you cannot control your powers, you can’t progress.”

“Without progress you cannot get power?”

“Yes and no.”

She cocked her head to the side. Becoming Sith seemed so much harder now… Control. Or death. How could a former slave like her even dream to succeed?

“Without control, what use would your powers be?” he asked, “Sometimes that power overtakes you and your choices. It makes it for you.”

Take away her choice? No! She just got it!

“I do not want that,” she shook her head clenching her fists on top of her knees.

He was going to show her right? Otherwise he would not have brought her here? Right?

“You shouldn’t,” Malgus commented amused.

“You will show me?”

“Seems like you already know the answer.”

He was not really answering the question. Chewing on her bottom lip, she looked closer at Malgus who shifted briefly on his knees before settling. Well, why else would he sit her down if not to show her how?

“You will,” she said slowly and he nodded.

“What you managed to do is subconscious control,” he started, keeping his eyes on her.

She shifted slightly, grasping her feet in both hands. What else was she supposed to do other than listen? Interrupting a Sith? Was he trying to provoke her to annoy him? No, Relion did that too often for her not to know what he was doing. Though, somehow her chest didn’t twinge like all the times before.

“But it is not good enough,” she added in the miniature pause he made.

“Exactly…,” he paused again taking in a deep breath before continuing, “When do you hear the whispers?”

When did she? They were ever present… How was she…

“I hear them all…”

“I meant when you hear them the loudest,” he corrected quickly.

She looked down to the carpet and its intricate stitching. That was not easy to answer because… they were there all the time. Only…

“When I am alone,” she looked back up waiting to see a reaction.

He tilted his head to the right. Continue.

“Sometimes during dreams… or…,” she stopped.

Should she really tell him about this?

“Go on.”

“Master would lock me in a dark room before presenting me to his guests or….,” she gripped the hem of her tunic just as Malgus’ eyes lit up in recognition, “I do not know what those charts were, but he always wanted to know if the lines would go up or down.”

 “Does not matter, but I see what he was doing.”

“What did he do?”

Malgus sighed, rubbing his chin, “Was this room small? Could you breathe?”

She opened her mouth before snapping it shut. Whenever he stuffed her in that room, she just… forgot about it as soon as she was pulled out.

“I do not remember,” she admitted sheepishly.

“He made you vulnerable,” he stated bluntly, “Not remembering is normal.”

Normal? Blinking, she let go off her tunic in surprise.

“The key is to know when it starts,” he said putting his hands next to his knees leaning forward, “What do you sense when it starts?”

“Starts with the visions?”

“Yes, what he was provoking is what is dangerous to people like you and me,” Malgus pointed at his chest, “Every Sith struggles with it. The Force wants to overpower us. We need to keep it in control, be our own person.”

“What happens when the Force overpowers?”

“You become nothing. Just a mindless vessel who will be used by others,” Malgus tone was cold, cutting in its edges.

To become no one? Without a will? Not free? No. Not her. It must never happen to her. Freedom was far too precious to ever lose again. But did that mean others had fallen? Cold weighed down her gut suddenly. Yes.

“Are there people who do?” she asked carefully, looking at him from under her eyelashes.

“Yes,” he said softly, “There is an entire Order of them.”

She swallowed. That was not good….

“They want to wipe us all out,” he implored staring her down, “Never ever listen to them when they talk.”

She nodded fervently. If he thought she might encounter them, then she’d trust his judgment.

“Why?”

“They already succeeded in nearly wiping us out,” he continued voice harder.

Suddenly his hand shot out gripping her chin, gauntleted fingers digging into her jaw. Her lips scrunched up with how tighty he was pushing his fingers into her skin. What was he…? Was he trying to hurt her? She grasped at his wrists, fingers sliding off his braces. It hurt!

“So remember,” he brought her closer, her upper body lifting over her knees, her face so close to his that she could see the tiny black veins shimmering through the skin under his eyes, “If you ever encounter a Jedi, do not believe a word they say.”

“Yes, my Lord,” she forced out, her upper lip barely moving.

“Good, now listen carefully. When you encounter them, the Force will respond, that urge to let the Force overtake you will become irresistible. That is why I will show you.”

Hadn’t he said as much already? Swallowing, she felt tears pressing against her eyes as she stared up at the Sith holding her. Goosebumps rose up her neck. What was he trying to do?!

“When the whispers become strong and you feel yourself slipping, what do you think will keep you grounded, yourself,” he questioned not sounding like he was actually asking her.

“What makes us _us_ are our emotions,” he grinned now, “They are what define who we are. Use your anger, your passion, your hate… all of them will keep you from falling.”

Her mouth was too dry to swallow the longer he stared at her with his fingers boring into her jaw. Was she even trying to pry his hands off? He had… had he? Yes, could only be. Why help her? After even telling her that nothing came when no one fought for it. Would she have thought about it to begin with?

Who was she to turn away freely given counsel?

“Yes my Lord,” she muttered out her cheeks now numb from being squeezed in one place.

“Good,” he replied finally letting go.

She fell on her hands, knees creaking when her joints moved suddenly. Tomorrow they were going to hurt so badly…. Stars, she could not wait to stretch out her legs later. Depending where she would sleep, of course.

Surely she would not sleep in such a luxurious bed… no way.

“Remember. Peace is a lie, there is only passion.”

Wait? There was another line? Jerking her head up, she frowned at the Sith who settled back comfortably on his knees. How many more lines were there? Why were there lines to begin with?

“Ehm,” she picked at a red thread that somehow had gotten loose in the otherwise immaculate carpet.

Relion would have been spitting fire in jealousy if he had seen it. Somehow… this was funny. All in the past and she was learning lines. Lines! Of philosophy! So funny she could scream-laugh. Though, the raised eyebrow quelled any bubbling up laughter.

“There is an entire code,” Malgus had stemmed a fist against his mouth.

Definitely hiding a smirk, the corners of the mouth were higher than usual. Amusement shimmering around before a chortling laugh burst out from him. Now she was grinning too. Cheek muscles were straining already after two seconds. Warmth spread through her chest and arms. She had to press both hands before her mouth. Bursting out into loud laughter felt inappropriate. Not when Malgus was just grinning practically from ear to ear.

“Before I get called away again,” he was serious again taking in a deep breath, “you should know some basics of control.”

“Basics?”

“Mastery over the Force takes years, longer I suspect for you simply because you only heard of it today.”

Years? Eyes wide she felt a stone settle into her gut. That long just so she could just have enough control to be herself? Furrowing her eyebrows, she looked for any signs that he was still in a humorous mood.

No. Not even a remaining flicker. Swallowing hard, she looked back down. The thread she had picked on stuck out now from the otherwise uniform fabric. Heat flooded down her neck the longer she stared at it. She should know better than ruin a perfect carpet. Would it be noted on a record before he dropped her off?

“Sounds daunting?” he rose both his eyebrows at her.

“Daunting?”

Now he was frowning at her.

“What do you not understand?”

“The word.”

“I… see,” he seemed taken aback for a split second, “Daunting means… frightful?”

Oh.

“Definitely frightful,” she squeaked out bunching her hands into her new tunic now.

Anywhere but the carpet. Lest she ruin it further than she already had. Just then Malgus released a long and loud breath, chest deflating visibly until he sat hunched over. As if he was trying to think about something.

“When you feel like you are about to lose control,” he started drawing a finger over the carpet.

A circular motion. One she could not prevent her eyes from following. Strangely comforting to follow his finger as it drew circles on the red fabric. At least she could not screw this one up. Just follow the circles….

“Focus on one thing that will keep your mind rooted,” he explained, “Only one. Too many and you will lose.”

She nodded instinctually, her eyes starting to strain with the steady movement, but she could not tear it away either. Fuzzy warmth started to spread from her forehead. As it reached her ears, a low hum drowned out any thoughts… until a blurry voice reached through.

“What do you sense?”

 _Warmth_ ….

“Good. Keep your eyes on my finger.”

She was. At this point, she wouldn’t be able to stop it even if she wished to. It went into another arc, dipping the threads down. Now the warmth grew to a prodding around her shoulders, numbing down her fingers.

 _Loss… he will keep losing_.

The whispers. They were back… no longer a comfort now. Her spine went rigid and she blinked. Losing track of the finger. That warmth, it grew so heavy, drooping her eyelids

“Keep your eyes,” came a low warning, the finger slowing down, “The Force is trying to take over. Fight it.”

 _How_?

“Anger, hate and fear….”

She felt nothing. What was she supposed to be angry of? Or afraid?

“They hurt you. Don’t you want them to pay?”

She… did? But that moment, her back started to burn, each lash flaring up with wild fire. It burned so badly! Eyelids clamped down, her vision filled with red. The red of the carpet.

 _All dead_.

Her muscles in the neck twitched. Look away. But he was right. They all had hurt her… used her. All for their own gain. She? All she had gotten were lashes, days spent starving for just a moment of some crumbs of recognition.

Somehow all feeling had fled her limbs. Was she breathing? Flickers in the red slowly floated in a circle. Steadily. Still?

A gentle nudge on her leg, then the back of her head… The prickling was back. Her fingers! She could feel them again! Her blood felt like it was bubbling beneath her skin making the tips of the fingers shake. So much power… how could one ever hope to control it? Cool air rushed into her lungs, forcing its way down her throat, expanding her chest painfully.

No stop! But she could not force herself to stop the breath that her body was drawing. Stars… please stop. This was too much! She was not cut out for this!

Please let her breathe.

 _Surrender or fight_.

Her head started to spin, her nose seemed to be moving, but she was not moving. Where was her head?

The choice was all hers.

Fight, she would fight.

What did she have to do? She would not lose her freedom now. Not when she could finally grasp it, almost taste it.

Breathe.

Out…, she clenched her fists, the nails digging into her palms. Sharp twinges shot up, making her grit her teeth. Still everything swam in front of her eyes, the flickering circle in her vision almost invisible now. After so many years living with Relion, enduring the lashes, the beatings and the degradation, this would be her undoing? No. Anger and hate boiled up. At Relion, at the guards… her mother for leaving her. Everyone! She was going to show them all!

Breathe out. All she had to do.

She breathed out.

A loud pop in her ears resounded through her skull when the air that had just filled her lungs to the brim rushed out. The prickling intensified to the point, all she could feel were pins and needles prodding her everywhere.

But… it was rushing into her, to her fingers and head.

Her eyes flew open, the room around her snapping back into focus. Small dust particles floated around them. The light from outside the viewport bouncing off of them. Almost looked like a night sky. Malgus still kneeled in front of her, staring intently at her. Finger no longer moving, but her eyes were immediately drawn to it.

Just then her chest deflated completely, all breath having left her. The rushing in her ears was gone, breathing was easier, freer too. But the power still bubbled in her blood and limbs, resonating around her skull.

Had she done it? Was the Force… had she won? Tentatively she lifted her hand, waving a finger through the sparse dust reaching out to the power that thrummed so close underneath her skin.

The power flared up under her command, willingly and almost… like it was joyous almost. Dim purple tendrils flickered and floated around her wrist, snaking around her fingers.

It was mesmerizing how it moved where she willed it to go.

So this was the power the Force could give? If only she fought and won.

“Good,” Malgus’ grin had morphed into a full blown smirk, smugness radiated in large pulses, “You might survive the academy.”

Her stomach and chest felt lighter than in months and she could only smile broadly back. Though, something felt strange in the air now, as if there was a curtain that was hiding something was fluttering in the air. Wafts of flashes rushed past her eyelids and she had to suck in a breath.

Another vision?

More nudges around her shoulders and even the base of her skull. Insistent and steadily prodding along her skin. The constant fuzz underneath her ears grew to a whispering. There were no words she could even understand. Maybe no one could ever understand them, but she could feel in her gut that it was asking her to let it show her. So much different than all the times before, where it just took over and she had let it. Now? She was the Master and she would not reject the power and knowledge it was offering.

So she let it in, letting the nudges work underneath her skin where they dissolved. Her stomach did not turn, nor did the typical nausea rise up, choking her. This time, the feeling was pleasant, as if hands were rubbing circles on her head while the view in front of her started to swim.

For a moment, she was drowned in a swirl of red, blue, black and grey. Staring into the still epicenter, she breathed in. The swirling slowed. As soon as she breathed out, the swirling stopped abruptly. Almost making her hurl at how fast it stopped leaving her mind spinning.

To find herself standing on a sheet of ice. Stars blinked down on her from a black night sky while snowflakes drifted down, setting on her cheek. Numbing down her cheeks, just as mist formed in front of her mouth.

 _Threefold shall be his losses_.

Who?

Slowly, she turned around. Malgus stood with his back towards her, but it was unmistakingly him. Could only be him. With that armour and the stance, where his hands were clasped behind his back while he paced in short strides across the ice.

Suddenly the ice started to shimmer from underneath, small streaks of orange between the cracks and pure white lines underneath her boots. Those lights grew, merging together. Looked like molten gold.

The cracks widened, the gold shining through some, illuminating snowflakes in narrow cones of light.

 _Betrayal will guide his path_.

More cracks broke through, the cones transferring into light beams. Enclosing Malgus whose hands were pressing down on the ice. The fractures and cracks all stemming from where the palms met the surface. What was he doing? He was going to kill them all!

Her feet would not move, not a twitch of a muscle. So she could only watch wide-eyed how the light merged into a sphere. Close to bursting out.

A loud crack threw her backwards, making her slide further away. The ice rapidly breaking apart not far behind. Malgus still had not moved, eyebrows drawn together in concentration. As if he was obsessed with breaking whatever there was out.

Gold-red light blinded her for a short moment, consuming Malgus whole. But… the last she saw he was smiling. Relief?

 _He shall not live to see the dawn he breaks_.

She could see again. But this time, she was not on ice. No, on pink grass that bowed in a breeze in front of a rising blood red sun.

Its colours started to bleed together until she felt air rushing into her again. Coldness pulling her out, until she was back. Mind swimming, the chamber shuffled back into focus. Not with the clarity from before, but she could still feel small pulses in her fingers. Not a dream, not her imagination.

Lifting her eyes, she sought out Malgus’ face. She had done it, right? Won over the Force and tasted and saw what it could give! Was she Sith now? Only, why were his eyes so wide she could see the white all round the yellow iris? Shock, anger, grief peeking from behind the wall around his mind. A heavy swallow, his throat bobbed up and down before he rubbed his forehead.

“Wait with Eleena until I am back,” he said jumping up in one smooth and quick motion.

Cape fluttering behind him. Cue to get up for her too! Scrambling, she pushed herself off her knees. Elbows were trembling and a sharp twist in her wrist made her wince. Her knees hurt when they unfolded, toes were already cramping up in the new boots.

His hand grabbed the back of the collar, yanking her to her feet. What had gotten into him? It was completely frantic, panic fluttering at her cheekbones. The black veins marring his skin had faded slightly from what she could see from up close. Then he dropped her to her feet, letting go as if she burned him. He took a step back, favouring the leg furthest away from her. Hands clenched into fists at his side, but somehow it felt like he did not know where to put them.

Confusion coloured everything, twisting and knotting her stomach. Wait for Eleena he had said. Whatever had happened, she should run and do what he said

She whirled around, her feet moving on their own, and she sprinted towards the door that led to where she had woken up. It swished open, revealing a wide-eyed Eleena who grasped her forearms tightly halting her in her tracks.

“I will be back soon,” Malgus ordered brushing past the two of them.

Her spine went rigid, when his back was turned to them arm cutting through the air for the other blast door to slam open. The loud clang of metal hitting metal ringing through her skull. She winced at the sharp pain in her ears.

Then he was gone, leaving her and Eleena clutching to the other for a moment. Not daring to breathe.

“What happened?” Eleena asked, after a heavy swallow, “I haven’t seen him this…”

“Angry?” she supplied, voice shrill at the end.

“No,” Eleena shook her head, “Just… don’t worry about it. He will come around.”

How could she be so sure? No one could ever predict a Sith or should have the audacity to know their inner workings. Remember her place. She was not Sith yet. Eleena’s fingers clutching the arm of her tunic relaxed, smoothing the wrinkles out while she looked to the ceiling. Thinking about something probably. It was just the two of them in a large room with only the whirring of a fan above their heads disturbing the silence.

“What do you think about tea?” Eleena chirped, voice far too bright for what had just happened.

She blinked in surprise up at the Twi’lek who had a very firm and strained smile splitting her face. But when she looked at her, a sort of warmth shone through her purple eyes. Purple eyes? How had she never noticed? Like hers!

How could a flaw look so pretty? They were a deeper purple than hers.

“You have an eye like mine,” Eleena smirked brushing a finger against her cheek, “It is pretty. Do not let anyone tell you otherwise.”

No one had ever said that. Words flew through her mind, but none of the stuck around long enough to form a sentence. Well, coherent sentence.

“Thank you,” she mumbled, cheeks flushing hot and she had to look away.

“Let me make some tea,” Eleena smiled truly now, “You had a long day.”

No… she was right. Whatever tea was, hopefully it was going to calm down some of the frayed nerves that were laying bare.  Though, strangely she felt so calm when Eleena smoothed down the hair on top of her head.

* * *

 

“Entering atmosphere,” the pilot’s voice crackled through the intercom.

The shuttle rattled violently a second later. Her fingers curled into her sleeves automatically, her stomach churdling nervously. So strange to find the floor underneath her feet shaking and knowing that several miles still separated them from safe and firm ground.

If Malgus was to be believed, she’d fly a lot once she becomes an apprentice. Carefully she looked up to where he stood, holding onto a handle staring intently at the door. Eleena had stayed behind on the ship, saying that only Sith and Imperial citizens were allowed to step foot onto academy grounds. How the Twi’lek was no citizen was making her head hurt the longer she thought about it. Asking Malgus made her hair stand on edge whenever the thought crossed her mind. Maybe she’d understand later.

“Landing sequence initiated.”

She shuffled her feet, the boot still too small around her big toe. Nausea swam in nose and throat… not enough to vomit, but enough to discomforting. A Sith academy! Well, Malgus had said lower academy until she was old and ready to start the trials on Korriban.

Another rattle and a large tremor went through the floor. The hum of the engines died down, until the latches on the door started to hiss. Depressurising, as a soldier had pointed out when they had first boarded.

Greyish light flooded into the cabin, when the door slid open. Malgus’ hand pushed between her shoulder blades urging her to walk out.

So this was Ziost… Or more, the academy grounds on Ziost. Grey buildings rose not too far away against a cloudy sky. Large patches of grass and bushes lined the path leading to the largest of them.

“It is the start of the winter season here,” Malgus explained walking the ramp down behind her, “Come spring you will see what I meant.”

Right… he had mentioned blooming gardens. Pure beauty he had called it with a side-glance to Eleena who had just ignored it while braiding her hair.

Three figures approaching drew her eyes away from the rather disappointing surroundings. A heavy set man marched at the front with the others a step behind. One in full armour while the other had a white coat on.

All for her?

“My Lord,” the one at the front greeted, putting a hand over his heart.

“Principal,” Malgus greeted back, his hands staying at his side.

Wasn’t he going to do the gesture back? Frowning she looked between the two. Blank walls, the four of them. Clasping her hands together, she watched as the Principal relaxed his posture. Still, he had not even looked at her.

“That is the new acolyte?”

“Yes,” Malgus responded waving a hand for her to move over.

All eyes were trained on her now, when she shuffled over. Assessing… the armoured man huffed briefly before looking back at Malgus. What was that supposed to mean?

“Doesn’t look like much,” the man shrugged, “But I suppose I had worse.”

“I did not ask for your opinion, Phremon,” Malgus snapped back.

Phremon ducked his head down, “Yes, my Lord.”

“Good. I have the fleet waiting for me. Give me the paperwork and I will be on my way again.”

He was leaving already? Surprised she stared at him. Somehow she had thought that he’d stick around for longer. Maybe there could have been answers for her many questions once she…. Nevermind, she was stupid. Why would he answer her anyways?

“Here, my Lord,” the principal took out a datapad, pressed a button and then handed it over to be signed.

A few clicks and a fluid hand motion later, Malgus was back in the shuttle lifting off while the principal was marching back. Leaving the two who had accompanied him behind with her.

“Acolyte,” Phremon sniffed, nose in the air, “You are expected to undergo a medical examination before you will be introduced to your group.”

“Yes, my Lord,” she squeaked back.

Cringing how high it was, she looked over to the woman in the white coat.

“Come, Acolyte,” the woman motioned with a hand to follow her.

This was it. Somehow she wanted to cry more than be happy for how it all turned out.

**Author's Note:**

> Do leave a kudos or a comment :D Would be really happy about them. I have the chapters already written up and this part of the series is complete.


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